8: Almost Death By Sword, A Lucky Escape - Part 2.

The work on the runways after four months of hard labour was beginning to show signs of completion. Some prisoners were put to mixing and laying cement to level off to the existing runway. We had been running out of material to fill the holes, so lorry loads of earth and rubble had been brought in to top up the holes. There were no tools for compacting this filling, so consequently when put to use and heavy trucks were driven on it, the runway would sink. This boded ill for the men on this particular job, they were rounded up and beaten, being accused of trying to crash Japanese planes as they landed.

The job seemed never ending, we had no news of outside events or how the war was progressing and realised there was a small possibility of us being rescued. Rules had relaxed a little by now. There was a general leisurely attitude and confidence about the Japanese soldiers and no air raid precautions that we knew of. Permission was given for us to have concerts in the yard, arranged by the prisoners. Some of the Army chaps formed a band, some sung and others did sketches and of course there were a lot of coarse jokes. Some of the prison staff watched with amusement and it helped to brighten up our days.

We had been imprisoned for about five months when our names, rank and number were taken, we were told our details were being forwarded to the Red Cross so that we could be reported as P.O.W’s. I was young and single and didn't have the worries as those with families had, which made it easier to deal with the present predicament. I knew that if I hadn't been taken prisoner, I could have been dead long before a letter reached home with the news. Our cigar ration ceased and in its place was the occasional use of tobacco. This was pretty awful stuff that hadn't been properly processed. Our guess was that the factory's supply of cigarettes and cigars had run out and we were now being given the remaining stock of tobacco.

As work once again, as we were being detailed off for our holes, two of the Japanese soldiers spoke to our guards, I was pointed out and told to go with them. I was marched between them feeling some trepidation, as we went towards the large open spaces of the airport perimeter. After a while we halted and I was told to pick up a coil of wire and canvas bag which was lying on the ground, we then continued on our way until the boundary fence was reached. The guards then sat down and motioned for me to sit, telling me I could smoke. I didn't carry any with me to work, saving it for when I laid down on the gravel in the yard wrapped in my blanket each night, when I endeavoured to forget my sore and aching body and stem the gnawing hunger pains. The cigarettes helped me relax as I dreamed of food, fried bacon, delicious food before falling to sleep from exhaustion. When I didn't respond and light up, one of the soldiers asked did I have any cigarettes, I told him no, so he gave me one.

After a rest I was given a pair of pliers taken from the canvas bag, a coil of wire and told to repair a large hole that had been cut in the surrounding chain link fence. As they sat watching, I made as good a job as was possible which seemed to please them. I was then given another rest and another smoke and couldn't believe my luck. We then moved to a smaller hole which I also set to and repaired, then it was meal time. We sat down and a small fish was produced from the bag and given to me to eat with my rice. I drank my water as they collected bits of wood and lit a fire, on which they brewed themselves a tea. We had some talk with signs and gestures and a little of our own language thrown in. Nearby were some goats grazing, for which I suspect the Javanese had cut the wire. One of the soldiers took his metal cup and fitted his water bottle and milked one of the goats, he then mixed in some sugar and placed it on the fire to warm, he then gave it to me telling me it would do me good.

After repairing two more holes, we sat back until it was time for them to take me back to join the main party for the march back to prison. Coming back down to earth next day, the hard labour of filling the bomb holes continued. One runway was now completed and in use, but there was very little air activity, which indicated that no offensive was being launched by either side, so we had no fears of being bombed or attacked whilst at work.

8: Almost Death By Sword, A Lucky Escape - Part 1.

On our way to and from the airport we marched along a narrow gravel road to where we crossed a railway line at a level crossing. The trains that ran on this line were electric powered by overhead cable, not unlike our suburban trains at home.

On either side of the gravel road was a twenty feet wide grass verge which bordered a plantation of coconut palms.

One evening, on our way back to camp we were halted, a train was due. Where I had stopped, close by was a Javanese with his push tea-stall selling cakes and biscuits. The train hadn't yet arrived, I was starving hungry as always, and, having my Dutch guilders with me, decided to take a chance, leaving the ranks to buy some cakes, hoping to get back in line before any of the guards saw me.

When I arrived at his stall the Javanese trader seemed frightened and made no attempt to serve me. I pointed to the cakes behind the glass showing him my money, when I heard calls from the ranks, “Get back, they're coming”, I moved quickly with a glance as I went and saw one of the guards running towards me. I resumed my position in the ranks just before he reached me. He stopped and motioned for someone to move out, I was well aware of the collective punishment handed out if I didn't move, so stepped out onto the verge.

A Sergeant arrived and spoke to the guard, I was then moved further on to the verge so that I was in full view of the whole column of prisoners, presumably so they could witness my punishment. I had not, so far, received any of the anticipated blows which seemed most unusual.

Next, the Japanese Officer-in-charge came along. The Sergeant called me to attention in front of the Officer, who then began to speak to me in Japanese and by the tone of his voice, I knew it was a reprimand. This was the first time since the start of my captivity that I had been, or had witnessed a formal lecture being given. Usually, there was a shout then blows from a rifle butt, kicking and punching. I was wondering, was I being given notice of a court martial?

Honour and trust was valued highly by the Japanese and I began to think I had insulted the Officer-in-charge by leaving the ranks. I had no idea what he was saying, my only course was to look him straight in the eyes as I received his verbal abuse. His tone became more agitated as he worked himself into a frenzy. I prepared myself for the blows that were sure to follow as his rage increased. I knew a formal charge wasn't going to happen now, he was just another Japanese about to launch into another kicking and punching frenzy.

Suddenly, in one swift movement, he unsheathed his two-handed Samurai sword and raised it with both hands above his head. I managed to retain my steady gaze, keeping eye contact. My thoughts were, ‘So this is the end, at the side of a Javanese road, I wonder if it will hurt, will it need two blows?’ We stared at each other in silence, my next thought was, ‘This is not a very brave thing to do, chopping down an unarmed man’, trying to convey these thoughts to him with my eyes.

I do not know how long we stood thus, there was plenty of time for my thoughts as the silence continued. Suddenly he moved, slowly lowering the sharp edge of the sword onto my shoulder and stopped, then gently slid it off towards him, replacing it in its sheath. Perhaps he intended to cut through my shirt to show me what I had narrowly missed, but this was intact when I examined it later.

He then spoke calmly, wagging his finger in front of my face, and by the tone of his voice, I could only assume the message was “Don't do that again, or else”, which I didn't ever intend to. I was just thankful that my head was still firmly fixed to my body. He then motioned for me to rejoin the ranks.

Afterwards, I pondered over my narrow escape and wondered, was it because I looked him straight in the eye, did my thoughts reach him, was I honourable because I never moved the whole time and remained standing to attention? The answer I will never know. The Japanese were certainly very strange people. I felt sorry for the Javanese trader who I had involved. He had panicked and ran off when the he saw the guards coming after me. They had called on him to stop, but he had kept on running, so some shots had been fired. I think he reached the palm trees safely, so he may have got away. His tea and cake stall was overturned by the guards, the glass broken and the contents kicked about. A high price to pay by an innocent man.

When we moved off there were a lot of comments and questions from my fellow prisoners. “Was I frightened?”, “Did my past flash before me?” and comments such as “You were lucky”, “That was close” and “You won't do that again in a hurry”.

I had to agree, it had certainly been a close thing. I did wonder if, when we reached the prison, I would be taken for punishment, but fortunately not, as I had been dealt with on the spot by an officer. Next day, as we passed the spot I looked for the wrecked stall, it had completely disappeared, reclaimed later for repair I hope.